


After great pain, a formal feeling comes

by Linguini



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Ada's attempts at comforting the hurt, Brief mentions of off-screen character death, F/F, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:23:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22870189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linguini/pseuds/Linguini
Summary: Ada stared at the nondescript door in front of her and hesitated, hands tightening around the tray in her hands.  “Hecate,” she called gently.  “I’ve brought something for you to eat.”There was no answer, and in desperation, she turned to pleading.  “Just a bit, my love?  Please? Anything at all.”More silence.  Ada pulled out her trump card, rarely used before, and only ever in Hecate’s absolute best interests.  “For me?”
Relationships: Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle/Hardbroom
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	After great pain, a formal feeling comes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rainshaded](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainshaded/gifts).



> This was a prompt from ages ago that I only realized I never posted to my AO3.

Ada stared at the nondescript door in front of her and hesitated, hands tightening around the tray in her hands. “Hecate,” she called gently. “I’ve brought something for you to eat.” 

There was no answer, and in desperation, she turned to pleading. “Just a bit, my love? Please? Anything at all.”

More silence. Ada pulled out her trump card, rarely used before, and only ever in Hecate’s absolute best interests. “For me?”

For a long moment, Ada wasn’t sure even that would work. But then the heavy locks on the door turned, and the hum of the magical barrier that resonated with Hecate’s signature melted away. Cautiously, Ada pushed the door open and stepped into the room, pausing just over the threshold to allow her eyes to adjust.

Across the space, Hecate was turned away, leaning over a cauldron that was glowing a pearlescent green, the color of a potent anti-sickness potion. Ada’s gaze swept over the tables, each crammed with tidy lines of potions. She could see the deep red of an antipyretic, the crystal clear painkilling potion, and thirteen bottles of something that appeared to shift between colors at whim.

“What is this?” she asked, reaching for one of the bottles as the lavender inside morphed into a deep goldenrod.

“Don’t touch that!” Hecate’s voice was sharp, sharper than Ada had ever heard it addressed to her, and she snatched her hand back immediately with an apology. 

Ada stepped lightly across the room and set the tray she was carrying down on a clear surface that didn’t look like it would get in Hecate’s way. She watched as long fingers shredded milkweed, and took a moment to study the face she knew best.

Between her brows were a trio of furrows, deeper than Ada had ever seen them. Hecate’s mouth was set in a firm, thin line with only smudges of lipstick remaining.

The pallor of her face was concerning but unsurprising. Ada had been there when Hecate had opened the envelope, breaking the black seal with a grimness that said she knew just as well as Ada what news was contained within.

She had said nothing as she read the death certificate, merely handed the envelope and its contents to Ada and transferred with a twitch.

That had been four days ago, and none of the staff had seen or heard from her since. 

“Hecate,” Ada said carefully, reaching out to rest her hand on Hecate’s arm. But Hecate flinched and so she let her hand fall limply to her side. The muscle in the corner of Hecate’s jaw twitched. “What is all this?” she asked.

The focus on Hecate’s face was so complete that, for a moment, Ada wasn’t sure she would answer at all. Then, finally, in a voice raspy with disuse, “Potions.”

“I can see that. But why so many? The infirmary has more than enough supply to get us through the year.”

Hecate didn’t answer, and Ada sighed. Usually, she was able to work out what was going on in Hecate’s mind, but this untouchable grief was beyond even her capabilities. She had glimmers of an idea—something about Hecate being unable to help as her mother had wasted away, the illness she hadn’t even known of that took her father—but nothing that would help her ease the stiffness of the shoulders in front of her.

With a resigned sigh, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to Hecate’s jaw. “Come back when you can,” she said softly, hoping some of her meaning would break through Hecate’s famed concentration. “I’ll be waiting.”

Hecate didn’t answer, but something around her eyes eased, and her hands paused ever so slightly in their work. She gave the tiniest of nods, small enough that Ada could think she had imagined it.

It wasn’t enough, not by a long a shot, but Ada had learned to appreciate incremental gains when it came to her recalcitrant wife, and it was something.

“Eat,” she reminded Hecate gently. “I’ll be back for the tray later.”

Reluctantly, she snapped her fingers and was away, leaving Hecate to work through her grief in the way she most needed while Ada sat in her chair by the fire. _She loves you_ , she reminded herself, over and over, until the words blended together and were lost in the crackle of the logs. _She'll come back.  
_


End file.
